Writing

My words don't come

in anything other

than my voice, and

my voice doesn't come

in size-12 Times New Roman;

It comes in butterfly wings and 

cluttered poems and ideas that

You know I think it just struck me I was sitting here reading summer poems tasting raspberry popsicles on my tongue but looking out the window,

 it's snowing out 

and the trees and stone wall and everything,

My favorite season has begun

stark white against the grayish brown of stick season

filling in the gaps between colorful fall and crisp winter

well, fall and winter are both crisp

I am chanting verse 9 of my first aliyah,

a bowl of blackberries and apple cinnamon Cheerios beside me,

fingers twirling the spoon, when -

out the window, there is snow.

SNOW SNOW SNOW SNOW SNOW

ecstatic

excited

ready for winter

eating it from the sky

feeling your socks get soggy and wet and cold as you reach out your chilly arms

it's snow

I'm ready for it

Just hear those sleigh bells jingling, ring tingle tingling too

F F F F F G F-D Bb C D C-A G F-

imitating the human voice with instruments

percussion back there repeatedly hitting the sleigh bells